


Come On Kid

by Dandybear



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: 8 Year Old Elizabeth, AU, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Booker saves Elizabeth from an orphanage at age eight. She doesn't have knowledge or control of her tears, but is already skilled in the art of getting into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by watching the anime, Michiko to Hatchin. It's a crash course in two people learning how to love and communicate with each other.

A younger, less jaded Elizabeth would say Comstock House Orphanage is an opportunity for adventure--like Oliver Twist or Annie.

 

The Elizabeth of now, who has lived in an Orphanage for eight years, knows how decidedly un-fun adventure is. She cooks, she cleans, and she prays to Father Comstock. The others beat her or take away her books if she reads too late into the evening. The food’s awful, and her clothes always smell like vinegar.

 

She has dreams that someday her real family will find her and take her away. Hell, dreams that some eccentric couple who love books and music will whisk her to their manor to be a young assistant.

 

Instead she mops floors.

 

Elizabeth tries to escape. She gets really good at picking the locks on her own door and the door to the Headmaster’s office. If she can break into his safe, she’ll have enough silver to run away.

 

Only she gets caught and sent to the ‘Detention Room’ --see also, a broom closet. She gets locked in there with no meals or water. It’s not until her kidneys ache and her lips are cracked that she gets let out.

 

It just steels her resolve.

 

The other children are violent thugs or whiny tattle-tales. Elizabeth does not make friends. They hit her with brooms. She pushes the brats down stairs. Then it’s back to Detention because some little snitch needs a smack in the mouth.

 

Sure, they’re all smiles when a potential parent comes in. The Headmaster and nurses all go squawking about, making sure the beds are made and hair combed. Elizabeth charms the young men and women with her wit. Most couples just happen to be looking for a boy. Girls are dangerous, smart girls aren’t worth the trouble.

 

It’s a sunny day in late June when a man with hands like cricket bats comes crashing in through the balcony. He lands on the Headmaster and doesn’t seem to notice the white-haired man squirming underneath him. He just scowls deep like a trench and does a one over of the children. His eyes are blue underneath his heavy lined brows. With one massive hand he points to Elizabeth.

 

“Hey. You Elizabeth?”

 

She turns her head to check if he’s really pointing to her. The Headmaster is wriggling out from beneath the man, when he aims a sharp kick to his skull. The older man collapses on the floor.

 

“Yes, sir. I’m Elizabeth.”

 

“Good. You’re coming with me.”

 

“Aren’t you going to fill out all the paperwork?”

 

“Don’t really have time. Listen, Kid, I’m not exactly here on legal business in the first place.”

 

Elizabeth stomps her foot as if to argue. It doesn’t meet the ground because the man picks her up like a sack of potatoes. She makes distressed shrieks as he takes a running jump off the balcony and onto a skyline. The world blurs before her eyes. It’s all so hard to take in, but she’s free.

 

She’s finally free.

 

An inhuman screech sounds all around her.

 

It would appear that they’re being pursued by some sort of giant robotic bird. It screeches again and attacks the building the skyline is mounted on.

 

Elizabeth of now is changing her mind. Adventures bad. Adventures very bad.

 

Her stomach is somewhere up around her ears and good lord, they’re freefalling. Judging by their mass and acceleration, the percussion of hitting the water below will probably cause fractures and organ damage.

 

Only, she doesn’t count on Battleship Bay being so close.

 

Awesome. They’re alive. She punches the air and shouts her victory. Then she dives to retrieve the unconscious man who rescued her. Before she can do this the air splatters with water and she watches the giant creature emerge from the depths with a screech. She’s suddenly glad for the water, because otherwise she would be noticeably wetting her stockings.

 

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

 

She feels like she’s forgetting something.

 

The drowning man! She dives and finds him caught on a chunk of skyline. Elizabeth untangles him and drags him to the surface. Shore isn’t too far away and she hitches them to a large piece of lumber for assistance.

 

They’re quite a sight to wash up on shore. He isn’t breathing and no one is coming to help. Elizabeth pushes on his chest and blows into his mouth. She hopes this is the right way. Theory is so much easier than practice.

 

He sputters and then vomits seawater. Gross.

 

“Smoke.” He tells her.

 

“Beg your pardon?”

 

“Grab me a smoke.”

 

“Your lungs were just filled with water.”

 

“Mmhm. Gotta invigorate--

 

“Evaporate.”

 

“Whatever. Dry them up with smoke.”

 

“I’m not an expert, but that doesn’t work that way.”

 

He hisses a breath and searches his pockets. He produces the cigarettes and groans. They’re soaked through.

 

“Excuse me Mister, but who are you?” Elizabeth remembers that they’re complete strangers.

 

“Name’s Booker DeWitt.”

 

“Well, Mr. Dewitt--”

 

“Call me Booker.”

 

“Booker. I’m Elizabeth Comstock.”

 

“No you’re not.”

 

She shoots him a haughty look that’s all cocked eyebrows and big eyes. She’s trying to fit her mouth around the polite version of ‘Bitch, I might be’ when he waves a dismissive hand at her.

 

“Be a good girl and find me some smokes.”

 

“Get them yourself.” She folds her arms.

 

“I just need a minute to uh... catch my breath.”

 

He looks like a filthy hobo who is about to collapse. Scratch the ‘about to’. Elizabeth brushes the sand off her dress.

  
She hears music. It’s worth investigating.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr. Dewitt, you permeate the odor of the floor of a bar.”
> 
> “Like you even know what that looks like. You’re nine.”
> 
> “Eight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for peeing I guess? The Luteces show up and do their thing. I'm playing pretty fast and loose with the game here. Tell me what you think.

Booker vomits seawater obscenely. He wrinkles his nose at the oddly metallic tang. He’s used to his salt water actually being salty.

 

“The hell is this place?” He grunts.

 

“Battleship bay was built using the Lutece Field. It’s a beach in the sky.” Elizabeth says.

 

Booker starts and then squints up at the girl. She’s crouching as not to get her dress covered in sand. Her hands are occupied with stuffing her mouth with pink cotton fluff.

 

“Mr. Dewitt, you permeate the odor of the floor of a bar.”

 

“Like you even know what that looks like. You’re nine.”

 

“Eight!”

 

“Whatever.” He pulls out a damp cigarette.

 

“I cannot believe I am related to one such as you.”

 

Booker sputters, but it’s not from the wet smoke.

 

“Related?”

 

“You’re clearly my father here to rescue me.”

 

“No.”

 

“I have inherited your eyebrows.”

 

Elizabeth stretches the skin on the inner arch to give her a deeper frown. Booker bursts out laughing and stands to dust himself off.

 

“Come on, Kid. We’ve got shit to do.”

 

“You said a bad word.”

 

“Mmhm. And I’ll teach you plenty more.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Diary,_

 

_I realize that I don’t actually have a diary to write my thoughts in. This is more of a mental log._

 

_A mental Captain’s Log._

 

_Booker Dewitt is boorish, brutish, and a bit of a thug. It would appear that my dreams of having a kindly scholar for a father are quashed. He eats sandwiches out of trash bins._

 

_Also, he continues to deny our resemblance. He just mutters something about ‘paying a debt’ before stomping off. How rude. I wish that he were a more verbose individual. Columbia is so very boring when all he does is read everything out loud and go “huh”._

 

_Oh! Before I go, Dear Diary, I got to see the new Duke and Dimwit._

 

**_So not worth the delays._ **

 

_Sincerely yours,_

 

_Captain Elizabeth (Dewitt?)_

 

**_xoxo_ **

 

* * *

 

 

This man is wrenching Elizabeth’s tiny arm and she’s screaming. Booker sees red. Elizabeth punches the man in the balls and he goes down.

 

“Elizabeth, hide!” He shouts through the foray.

 

“She’s taking the people trying to kidnap her remarkably well.” Booker thinks as he runs through gunfire with a screaming eight year old clinging to his back.

 

He shoves a skyhook through a man’s head and brain goes everywhere. Her screaming intensifies.

 

“Elizabeth, you’re gonna need to stop that.”

 

Two more shotgun blasts leaves a hole in the wall and Comstock’s forces. Booker feels a warm dampness on his back.

 

He panics, thinking the worst.

 

“Elizabeth! Are you okay?”

 

She whimpers and snuffles. He paws the spot, inspecting for blood. His hand comes back damp but colourless.

 

Then it dawns upon him.

 

“Aw shit.”

 

“I’m so sorry Booker!”

 

She runs off and hides in the ticket booth. Booker just sighs and follows.

 

“Elizabeth. You were scared. It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

 

She locks the door.

 

“Elizabeth, we need to go.”

 

“Perhaps we can be of some assistance?” Booker twitches.

 

He turns to find the Luteces standing side by side. Each one holds an outfit. Robert’s is a blue strapless dress and black coat. Rosalind’s has waist high trousers, a blouse, and an admiral’s coat.

 

“Have any thing for me to change into?” He says.

 

Robert gives him a tight lipped smile and Rosalind shakes her head.

 

“You will find a change of undergarments in here as well.” She tells Elizabeth.

 

Elizabeth unlocks the door and pokes her head out. She bites her lip and looks to Booker for advice.

 

“I dunno. The blue one.”

 

“They’re both blue.”

 

“The dress.”

 

Robert looks incredibly smug. Rosalind rolls her eyes and throws the pants at him.

 

“If you’re going to behave like a child then we shan’t be doing this again.” He says.

 

They’re gone before Booker can thank them.

 

“Hey Kid.” He leans against the door.

 

“Yes, Mr. Dewitt.”

 

“I am him. Your dad, I mean.”

 

The door swings open. She’s got his hair tied up in a bandana. He can’t help but smile at what a little badass she looks like.

 

“Why did you leave me?” Her eyes fill with tears.

 

“Baby girl, I never meant to. I fought for you. I fought so hard.”

 

She grabs his chin and adjusts his head so that they’re nose to nose. Elizabeth studies his features. She searches his eyes for the truth. Booker’s almost a complete stranger. She can’t tell.

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Elizabeth gets good at hiding when there’s trouble. Or, she does until she sees Booker taking too much damage. He’s going to die. She swallows her fear and goes running. She’s faster than their attackers, even the ones who disappear in puffs of angry feathers. She finds all sorts of supplies and throws it at Booker.

 

Sometimes it smacks him in the face. Sometimes it lands far away from him. He’s always grateful.

 

Afterwards, she’ll patch up his wounds and then grab his hand. She likes to lead him around so that he doesn’t get lost.

 

Or maybe she’s afraid that if she lets go he’ll leave again.

 

* * *

 

 

He finds a room that he deems safe enough to rest in. The sun’s setting and children are difficult even when they aren’t tired and cranky.

 

Elizabeth sits eating an orange on a dirty-looking mattress. Booker winces at the sight.

 

“Wait here.”

 

She opens her mouth to protest.

 

“I’m just gonna see if I can hunt down a blanket.”

 

“If you’re not back in three minutes I’ll come find you.” She swallows.

 

The house is, thankfully, abandoned. It was a rush job too. There’s still lots of food in the pantries. He grabs some cured pork and a loaf of bread for a more substantial dinner. He fills his hands and keeps the quilt he found upstairs wrapped around his shoulders.

 

He gives Elizabeth the lion’s share of the food. Her fear and shock have worn off and now she’s ravenous.

 

“You have bread crumbs around your mouth.” He tells her.

 

She frowns, embarrassed. Such a prudish child.

 

“Should get some sleep.”

 

His bones and muscles ache. All he wants to do is sleep for a year.

 

“Where are you sleeping?”

 

He looks pointedly at the bed she’s sitting on.

 

“Oh.”

 

“It’s safer this way. I gotta keep watch.”

 

She’s too tired to argue. Instead she shakes the crumbs off the covers and slides under them. Booker shrugs off his vest and joins her.

 

He’s big and warm and smells gross.

 

“Goodnight Anna.” He says.

 

“‘Night Da-Booker.”

 

It’s too early for her to claim him as her father. He needs to earn it first.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Dear Diary,_

  
_My name is Anna._


End file.
